Two or three strong gusts swept through the orchard, blowing papers and stirring the limbs of the trees.
“Girls, better come down from your ladders,” Miss Gordon called. “It looks as if we’re in for a wind storm.”
Scarcely had the girls descended, however, than the wind died away as quickly as it had come.
“False alarm,” laughed Miss Gordon. “We may as well go back to work.”
Mrs. Davidson said it was time for her to go home and start supper. She was the first to leave, taking Sunny with her.
After that, Mrs. Williams had to go and so did Eileen’s mother. They promised, however, that if the weather remained favorable, they would return the following morning.
“Mr. Hooper really needs every picker he can get,” Miss Gordon said soberly. “He tells me his entire crop must be harvested before the end of the week. Otherwise, much of the fruit will be rejected by the cannery as over-ripe.”
One by one the mothers left the orchard, taking their daughters with them. Miss Gordon was among the last to depart.
“Girls,” she said to Veve and Rosemary, who were to ride with her, “will you bring the lunch baskets, please?”